Not So Different After All
by Blondemomo
Summary: Harry and Ginny have always been distant until they run into each other one night at their lowest points. They realize they aren't that different after all.


Well, well, well…welcome me back into the world on fanfics, I haven't been back for months. Most of you would know me as the author of MY OPAL, my first fanfic. I attempted to write a few more after I finished MY OPAL; but as you can see none of them were ever good enough to put up. Thus, I decided this one had to be kick-ass fabulous and be very different. Since I'm a sucker for cuddly fics and angsty ones too, I decided to mix a melting pot of a fic. Bear with me here, and please review.

                                

Summary: Harry and Ginny have been around each other for ages, always seeing each other and hanging out with the same group, but never really getting to know each other. Finally after they get to know each other one night, a whole new world seems to open up for them.

Ginny walked out of her dorm room, with a few Galleons in her hand. She was going down to the dungeons for a late night fix. She marveled how oblivious everyone seemed about her drug use. She scoffed at them silently and closed the door to her dorm room, not caring if it slammed at all.

Harry slithered out of bed and into the invisibility cloak. He wanted to go outside to be alone. He was on a downward spiral, and this time he knew he would hit rock bottom really soon. He grabbed what was left of the Vikodin under his pillow and stumbled down the hall, noisily closing the door, only to be answered with Ron's snore.

Ginny reached the common room and headed for the portrait hole.

Harry's eyes rolled for a second as he reached the portrait hole.

Harry and Ginny ran smack into each other in the dark Gryffindor common room. Now, of course, Ginny didn't realize it was him because he was under his invisibility cloak, so she just muttered herself that she was too klutzy. Ginny dignifiedly picked herself up and smoothed out her skirt. Harry lay on the floor, daring not to make a sound. A spider crawled over Harry's face, he couldn't hold it in; he yelped.

Ginny whipped around, nearly cracking her neck. Harry cursed silently under his breath, and stood up, taking off his invisibility cloak.

"HARRY! YOU NEARLY FRI—" she was cut off.

"SHH!!" he whispered, putting his hand over her mouth and the cloak over her too, "Shh. I'm going out; seems you're going out too. Do you wanna' come with me?" his eyes pierced through her mind.

"Yeah. Yeah, okay. Where to?" she replied.

"The lake, you know, just out for thought. The moon is so beautiful, I thought I had to."

"You know this isn't safe at all," Ginny gallantly replied.

"Yeah, I know, but neither is you wandering around alone at night, either, is it?" he grinned a little too sensually.

"Hmm, right. 'Kay, lets go," and they walked out of the school into the late late night's air.

They glided under the cloak over to a big Weeping Willow tree. The sat down soundlessly and began to think, sending their wishes and hopes into the lake. Ginny's head rested on Harry's shoulder, sending her long red hair cascading down his back. His head rested on top of her head; perfectly fitted. Both could tell the other just needed someone to lean on and be there for them.

"Do you come out her often?" Ginny broke the calm silence after nearly three quarters of an hour. 

"Yea. Lately, even more than usual. Something about this lake that is so versatile. It is like the ocean to me, ya' know? I mean, just the stillness is like a place I once knew; I think my parent's house's garden. Just lots of love and stories packed into everything."

Ginny waited for a minute for the words to seep into her before speaking again, "It is perfect out here. Nothing seems to hurt anymore out here. Just like all emotions are left inside the school and you can just be a human being here. No names needed."

Harry understood.

He breathed in, realizing he wasn't the only one hurting. He wanted to know; know why she was hurting and why she was so calm on the outside lately, and so empty in her smiles and expressions. He hadn't heard her laugh in months. Harry needed to know he wasn't the only person in pain.

"What's killing you?" he knew the word selection was important, so he picked the most obvious words to say.

She snorted sarcastically and grimaced, but only put her head deeper into his shoulder before answering, "Hell, you know. It's everything. All the little things. Every smirk, every point at me. Every giggle and stare, hell, it's the way people still talk to me; like I'm—like I'm dead already. Mom and Dad can't stop fighting, I can't go home anymore, and I'm moving out this summer. It's the way my supposed friends treat me—almost worse than my enemies."

She stopped and looked sick she had just told him that. She apologized profusely to him, saying she was just being silly. Harry merely raised his eyebrows and told her to continue. Ginny felt a warm tear fall through her freckled face.

She laughed maliciously at herself. She went on; it just felt okay to.

"You know, its me. I can't get it right. I can't find anything GOOD anymore to believe in. I tried to find relief. You know that's one thing they should sell—happiness. I tried looking for happiness in bottles, needles, pills, and hell,—even in guys. They just don't give happiness. Even razor blades don't anymore. I can't do it deep enough."

She turned her head and looked away. Harry glanced down at her long sweatshirt sleeves and pulled them up to her elbow. The scars engraved into her arms seemed to redraw the veins underneath. They were so deep; he knew how much it took to tell him that.

He took her long, thin arms in his arms and kissed the scars until she looked at him. Two tears dropped on her arms; one from him and one from her.

"It used to work. It used to, to clear my head, and to let me breathe. Harry, I can't cut deep enough any more. I can't cut deep enough." Her sobs muffled her words and soon subsided as she stared with glassy eyes into the lake.

They stayed silent for another few minutes before she leaned into him, with her head tucked into his chest. She asked him what was killing him. What was sending him out here every night, with thoughts like what he was thinking.

"Hell, same as you. Nothing is good anymore. Parties, girls, school, Quiddich—hell I thought I'd never be able to say that. Nothing is worth living for anymore. Nothing will be able to make me happy. I just feel empty; hollow; dead. He laughed as a few tears made their way down his long chiseled face. They dripped onto Ginny's face and she let them drip onto her wrists.

She leaned into him father, signaling him to go on. He understood her.

"Who wants me now? Who wants me as a person? The birds—hell, they want my name. They want my kiss and they want my touch, but none of them want my soul. People look at me; half expecting me to either blow them up or jump out a window. No one sees me for a person anymore. They simply see me as a thing, to be talked about as an object." His words trailed off as he finished.

Both of them glared into the night, silent with thought. It hit them—how similar their stories were. Both needed someone to love, and someone to love them back. They needed a friend, a drink and some Prozac, but a friend most. Harry did something he would never do for anyone else—he pulled his sleeves up and glared at them. He showed Ginny his scars too. Ginny did what Harry had done for her—she leaned down and healed them with her kiss. 

They leaned on each other in more ways than one. Each one seemed so strong and so stable; neither of them knew what the other had been going through.

Ginny glanced around, realizing it had been several hours since she had left the school. It was around 2 am about then. Time was another thing they should sell, there's never enough time.

"So why me?" Ginny asked Harry, "Why tell me this stuff? I've never been there for you, I've never been a great friend, and we've never been close. Hell, we don't really even hang out at all."

"I don't know why you. I guess its because you are the only one in the world who understands. Who _knows_. You're right; we don't hang out. But I guess that's what makes it so much easier. You reached out to me. My own best friend doesn't think anything is wrong with me. Yet, a distant friend knew it right away," Harry's lungs nearly collapsed with his deep sigh.

It was inevitable to see how much has changed between the two in a few hours. Harry held Ginny in his lap like he would never let go, and Ginny leaned into him with her soul resting on the outside of her body. Their eyes were glazed over as they watched a mermaid flip her tail in a dive. The squid pranced around the lake's outer edge, and stuck a tentacle out to see if there was any small animal around to eat.

They sat in silence, watching the moon nearly burn it's light out for them.

It was a raw feeling they both had inside. It felt like the first emotion other than a numb ache they had experienced in months; the rawness of their open hearts, the relief of talking to someone, and the new beginning. Raw; an emotion that felt perfect.

"What now?" Ginny asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, we're both ridiculously unhappy, addicts, and suicidal. And I say that nonchalantly. Har, we're on the edge, and I'm so ready to let go. I can't wake up without thinking of how to end this," she said monotone.

Harry chuckled deeply, "I don't know. I think we solved a fuck load of stuff tonight. You know, you are really perfect."

Harry leaned over Ginny, whose head was in his lap and body curled into a ball. She propped herself up on her elbows. They connected. For one second they both knew what happiness tasted like. They stared into each other's eyes for what seemed like a sweet eternity. They understood what the other needed; acceptance, caring, someone to talk to and listen to, understanding, and most of all, love.

They breathed again.

So now you have to review and tell me to either … 1/chuck it out…2/keep going with it…or 3/leave it 'as is'

I honestly would appreciate reviews, because this story means a lot to me. I love you all! Feedback welcome = pinkpeppermintadelphia.net

From a hysterical author, Blondemomo


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